


Fun/Soft

by fluffyspy



Series: Naegiri Week 2017 [5]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13211997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffyspy/pseuds/fluffyspy
Summary: Kirigiri smiled. Makoto didn’t think he had seen her genuine smile yet, and this certainly wasn’t it; it was more of a wry twist of the lips, really. “Navigating through those personalities is your idea of fun?”--In which Makoto and Kyoko have their first argument.





	1. Fun

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one was originally day 5 of Naegiri week, and chapter two was day 7. I couldn't leave them unhappy for long.

“So, what kind of things do you do for fun?”

…Oh god, he’d just asked her what kind of things she did for fun.

Her eyes narrowed, and he imagined she was probably thinking many of the same things he was: was he seriously attempting amateurish teenage flirtation only days after they’d watched a second classmate be brutally executed? Did he really think she was going to forgive him so easily for ignoring her warnings and letting Ishimaru talk with Alter Ego? Was that really his best conversation starter?

Instead of asking any of these questions, Kirigiri only crossed her arms and bluntly deflected, “I don’t really like talking about myself.”

But instead of letting the conversation end there, she slid her gaze to the right—still passing right over Makoto—and added, “I could ask you the same question.”

Discouraged by her refusal to answer but bolstered by the fact that she was actually engaging him in conversation, Makoto admitted, perhaps a bit too eagerly, “I usually just do whatever’s popular. I like watching baseball! And going to movies with friends, and playing games, and there’s some TV shows I watch with my sister…” He trailed off, the thought of Komaru dampening his mood as he remembered the videos they’d been forced to watch soon after arriving at the school. Would he ever be able to join Komaru on the couch and gossip over the private lives of fictional characters ever again? “But… since we came here, I guess I’ve just been talking to everyone. That is, when we’re not all dealing with… you know.”

When he looked up again, Kirigiri actually was meeting his eyes, and he had to contain his jolt of surprise. He was sure she’d noticed his shock regardless—she was as observant as she was guarded—but she had the courtesy not to bring it up. “So you’re on good terms with the others?”

“I mean, I guess…” Makoto shrugged. “I don’t think Togami likes me much, but I don’t really think he likes anyone. I wanted to be friends with Fukawa—I still do—but she was already complicated even before we learned everything about her. And I have no idea what Ludenberg thinks of me, but I guess she’s nicer to me than she is to Yamada.”

Kirigiri smiled. Makoto didn’t think he had seen her genuine smile yet, and this certainly wasn’t it; it was more of a wry twist of the lips, really. “Navigating through  _those_  personalities is your idea of fun?”

“Well, maybe not those three specifically…” He scratched at his cheek. Her phrasing hadn’t been particularly kind, but it was hard to disagree with the implication. Hope’s Peak recruited the best of the best, and it seemed that being the best of the best came with, at the very least, a healthy degree of eccentricity.  “But… yeah. Everyone has good in them. I think it’s rewarding to find it, especially in… this sort of situation.”

As if there were any other situation that remotely qualified as the same “sort” as what they were going through right now.

“Naegi, three of our ‘classmates’ have been murderers. One of them is still here.” Any traces of amusement still present from his earlier comments had left her voice. She was frowning sternly at him, eyes trained on his.

Makoto was unable to hold her gaze for long, though he couldn’t help the defensiveness that crept into his voice as he responded, “Kuwata was trying to protect himself. Fukawa wants to change; she told us herself that the reason she locked herself in her room that time was because she didn’t want Genocider Syo to hurt anyone. And Owada…” The image of Chihiro’s corpse, blood dripping down the remains of his skull, came unbidden to Makoto’s mind. But there was also the picture of Owada telling him about his beloved dog, and joking and laughing with Ishimaru, and the resigned, regretful look on Owada’s face as he confessed. “I… I don’t think he would have done what he did under any other circumstances.”

Kirigiri’s stern glare didn’t let up. “That’s even more worrying. You say everyone has good in them, but everyone has bad in them too. You don’t think Owada would have committed murder under different circumstances? Well then, what circumstances would drive Ishimaru to kill? Yamada? Togami? Everyone has a breaking point, Naegi. You don’t want to risk ‘having fun’ with them when they reach it.”

Words were stuck in his throat. Everything she was saying made sense logically, but all the same, he knew in his gut that he would never accept it. Finally, he managed a small, “I’ve been spending time with  _you.”_

“I never said that was a good idea.” Her words fell like stones, clattering to the ground between them. Before he could work up the strength to reply, her back was turned and she was walking purposefully away from him. Makoto winced at the sound of her boots clacking on the floor.

Before long, she was gone.

* * *

Kyoko Kirigiri let out a labored sigh. Were anyone else around, she’d be loath to show such a sign of weakness, but she was alone, and she could afford to be dramatic. Certainly the cameras could see her, as she was only standing in the third floor hall, but quite frankly, whatever shadowy, sick figure was watching from behind them could kiss her ass.

She thought of Naegi’s devastated face just before she’d turned away. She grit her teeth.

_So much for that._  Naegi was wrong. Talking to others wasn’t fun at all.


	2. Soft

Aoi Asahina had had a lot on her plate in the past couple of days. Originally she’d thought she was being haunted, but then it turned out that the “ghost” in question was an artificial intelligence her dead friend had uploaded onto a school laptop. If that wasn’t enough to handle, there was also Ishimaru’s unpredictable emotional state, Monokuma’s 10 million yen motive, and the added threat of Genocider Syo running wild around the school. Hina had always tried her best to stay positive, but she could feel fear and panic creeping into her veins every moment she wasn’t keeping herself busy with exercise.

The newly-discovered third floor of Hope’s Peak had one of the least convenient designs she’d ever seen as far as getting from place to place quickly went, but the silver lining was that it made a pretty decent running track in the absence of any access to the outside world. Hina was currently just a few meters ahead of Sakura in a friendly race she’d initiated—Sakura certainly outclassed her in terms of sheer strength but Hina usually pulled ahead when it came to tests of speed—when she found herself having to come to a dead stop with a couple of meters to spare. She stumbled in the process, but was held standing by the obstacle standing in her way.

“Woah! Hina?” Naegi looked a bit harried, which Hina supposed was fair given that she’d nearly run in to him at full speed.

Sakura came to a stop next to them, the whole building seeming to shudder with the force of her footfalls. “Naegi. Our apologies; we thought you were busy speaking with Ishimaru.”

Naegi let out a breath and ran a hand through his already-messy hair glumly. “I was trying to. He’s… more responsive than he was, but he’s not really making a lot of sense. He really didn’t want me around for some reason, so I gave up.”

Asahina frowned, her worry for her friends catching up with her despite her attempts to outrun it. “At least he’s talking again,” she tried to offer weakly. Sakura placed a hand on her shoulder; she took that to mean that her attempts at positivity weren’t very convincing.

“I think his exact words were, ‘Get out of my face, you soft bastard,’” quoted Naegi. Now that Hina got a better look at him, she didn’t just think it was the surprise of almost running into her that had him looking so bad. Naegi’s eyes were tired and baggy, his voice dull, and his hair even more of a bird’s nest than usual.

“Ishimaru is working through his grief. You must not take his words to heart,” assured Sakura.

Naegi mustered a small, grateful smile. “I know. Thanks, Ogami. But…” His eyes drifted downward. “I kind of worry he might be right about some things.”

“Like what?” said Hina. It was inappropriate, and it wouldn’t have happened if she weren’t so damn  _stressed,_  but a slight laugh escaped her lips. “I don’t think he’s really possessed by Owada’s spirit.”

“No, not  _that…”_  Naegi rushed to say. He chewed his lip hesitantly, then finally managed, “Am I really too soft?”

She was surprised by the question. Hina honestly liked Naegi. He was probably her second best friend here, after Sakura, and his kindness and forgiving nature were what made him such a good friend in the first place. If the rest of the group—especially that jerk, Togami—were more like Naegi, she wouldn’t have to be so afraid. It had never even occurred to her that those traits could be interpreted as a bad thing.

As always, it didn’t take long for Sakura to offer sage, eloquent advice. “To leave oneself open and vulnerable to others is an act of courage. Though we all benefit from your bravery, you also put yourself at risk because of it. Perhaps, where Ishimaru once admired you, he now worries for you. Regardless, you alone may choose who you want to be.”

Naegi was silent for a long moment, head angled downward and eyes gazing off into space. Finally, he nodded, and though he still looked sad and exhausted, his gaze wasn’t quite as lost as it was when they’d initially collided. “That was… really well-put, Ogami. Thank you.”

Sakura bowed her head, a satisfied smile on her face. “I am glad to help put your mind at rest, Naegi. Perhaps your body should follow its example.”

“I’m having trouble sleeping too,” offered Hina. She’d never be the steady, supportive figure that Sakura was, but her friend was clearly hurting, and she wanted to do what she could to help him, even all she could do was empathize. “It helps when I get a lot of exercise. Do you want to come running with us?”

“I don’t think I could keep up,” admitted Naegi, shrugging bashfully. Then he frowned, looking thoughtful. “Actually… there was someone else I wanted to check on. I’ll see you guys at dinnertime?”

“Sure! Maybe we’ll even get dessert this time!” Asahina managed a genuine smile at the thought.

“Good luck in your endeavors, Naegi.”

“You too!”

Before long, he was headed down the stairwell. Sakura frowned as she realized that they’d moved quite a bit since engaging Naegi in conversation. “I’m afraid I’ve lost track of our positions in the race. Shall we start over?”

Hina took her friend’s hand and started the long trek back to the physics lab. “You’re on!”

* * *

Alter Ego hadn’t reported anything amiss today, which was a relief for Kyoko. Between Yamada, Ishimaru, and—the real threat—Monokuma, protecting the artificial intelligence from any surprise visitors was becoming quite the time-consuming endeavor. Her investigation was really starting to lag.

She’d prowled the third floor for a bit after her…  _disagreement_  with Naegi, but hadn’t been able to focus well on her work, which only served to anger her even more. At least with Alter Ego, she didn’t have to make any deductions; it was just a matter of making sure the laptop stayed in the changing room.

That was where she was standing when she heard the door open behind her. Kyoko spun around, ready to confront the newcomer, only to freeze as she saw that it was the one person she was  _especially_  not in the mood to see. “Naegi?” Her voice didn’t come out as forceful as she would have liked. “What are you doing here?”

He looked about as uncomfortable as she felt, but he didn’t flinch at her words. “I…” He paused, cleared his throat, and tried again. “I just wanted to say that I understand why you said what you did. Yesterday, I mean. When you asked me what I did for fun and I said—“

“I know what you mean.” This was unexpected. It wasn’t like she thought he’d take her words to heart and end up cautious and guarded like her; an increasingly loud part of her really didn’t want him to. But at the very least, she thought she’d made things between them awkward enough that Naegi wouldn’t go seeking out her company any more.

Maybe she’d misjudged him. For all his seemingly passive nature, it seemed that Naegi really was the kind of person to confront his problems head on. She supposed he’d already proved that much in the class trials. Was that what this was, then? A confrontation? But he didn’t look angry…

“You were trying to warn me, right?” he pressed on. “Trying to get me to be more careful. I didn’t know why you said that stuff at first, but you were really just worried about me…” He trailed off and swallowed, suddenly looking unsure. “…I mean, I think.”

“You’re not…” Kyoko sighed. She’d begun her response before she had the chance to think better of it. No going back now, then. “You’re not  _wrong.”_   She frowned down at the bench nearby, avoiding eye contact. She really hoped she wasn’t blushing.

She couldn’t see his face, but she could hear the relief in his voice as he continued, “G-Good! Well, it’s not ‘good,’ but what I mean is, ‘thank you.’ It… it really means a lot that you’d worry about me.”

“You take enough risks that it’s hard not to,” she replied. She could hear an acerbic tone creep into her voice, and it was almost a relief. Annoyance, bitterness, they were safe enough emotions to reveal. If she was irritated, that meant she wasn’t… anything else.

“I know.” He swallowed again. “And… I don’t think I’m going to stop.”

Another curveball. Kyoko was beginning to suspect that she had no idea where this conversation was going. It was a new sensation.

“I said before that I was going to carry our lost friends with me, and I’ve decided I want to carry  _me,_  too—er, if that makes any sense. I don’t want to change who I am.” Naegi took a heavy breath. “If I’m too soft, then I’m too soft. But that’s just me.”

There was a long silence. Finally, Kyoko raised her head, looking at him again. He had the same determined look on his face he had when he was presenting evidence at the class trials. His voice had even stopped wobbling at the very end of his soliloquy, sounding less like the gullible mess that insisted on buddying up to every potential murderer in the school and more like the competent investigator that remained objective and logical as he helped her put the pieces of each case together.

Except that was an idiotic comparison, because they were the same person. He wasn’t Fukawa. Naegi who got framed for murder because he couldn’t get over his middle school crush, Naegi who had found the truth regardless, Naegi who wanted to be friends with a literal serial killer, Naegi who had found that serial killer’s identity where trained police had failed for years, Naegi who she had yelled at, Naegi who she was just starting to accept that she might actually kind of like—it was all  _him._

Maybe she didn’t need to worry about him after all.

“You’re not too soft,” she finally admitted. “You’re a  _little_  soft, yes, but if you were too soft, you wouldn’t still be alive right now.”

Kyoko had never had much of a talent for giving pep talks.

Still, his face lit up, and before either of them could react, he threw his arms around her pulled her into a tight hug. Kyoko froze, arms standing stiffly at her sides, and it didn’t take long for Naegi to notice her reaction and release her. “S-Sorry! I don’t, uh, I don’t know why I did that. All I meant to do was say thank you. So. Thank you! And I’m sorry. So sorry.”

Naegi backed out the door in a flurry of apologies, bowing and blushing furiously. Kyoko could only watch him go, face gone absolutely blank with shock. She could feel her cheeks burning as she sat heavily on the bench.

Scratch that. She definitely needed to worry about him.


End file.
